


We Do What We Have To Do (But In The End, I Still Come Home To You)

by waterbird13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Underage Prostitution, Prostitution, Sam/others - Freeform, Slight Bondage, mentions of Dean/others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean manages to get himself arrested under a fake name, and Sam needs to raise the money to bail him out. He falls back onto the brother's old standby for raising cash fast, something he hasn't had to do in years. When Dean gets out, they talk about what they've both done for each other, then have lots of sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Do What We Have To Do (But In The End, I Still Come Home To You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> Here is my contribution to Wincest Day (which ends in less than three hours here, so I'm cutting it close). Happy Wincest Day, all!
> 
> Okay, here we go. See tags, but warnings for explicit sex, incest, gay explicit sex, prostitution, mentions of underage prostitution, some slight bondage and mentions of use of toys. I'm relatively positive that that's it.
> 
> Enjoy, everyone!

The asshole just had to go and get himself arrested.

Bail is more than Sam has on hand—a lot more—and somehow he thinks it’s a bad idea to try to bail his brother out using a fake credit card when Dean was busted for credit card fraud in the first place. The last thing they need is for them both to end up in jail.

That leaves Sam a few options, and he picks the least illegal one available to him. Well, it’s still illegal, but no one will ever know and it’s not going to hurt anyone, so Sam’s fine with it.

The jeans and wife-beater are still pushed to the bottom of his duffle bag, and he pulls them on, thankful they still fit. Well, fit isn’t the right word. After all, they’re supposed to be too small.

He debates stopping at a drugstore to pick up some makeup, but decides against it. That worked when he was fifteen, made his eyes look big and innocent. But Sam is thirty-two, six feet, four inches, just under two hundred pounds, and so far from innocent it’s not even possible for him to fake it any more.

He worries for about half an hour that he’s too old now, that he’s the total opposite of innocent and cute and no one wants him anymore. Turns out, someone does want him, wants three hours and three hundred dollars of Sam. It’s not enough, but he goes back to the motel and showers before going back out. He’s exhausted and sore—the first guy had been a creative motherfucker, seemed to think Sam’s body was similar to silly putty in stretchability—but he takes another job.

The second guy offers extra—a lot extra—if he can tie Sam up, use some toys. He debates for a moment, because the extra money means he’s done for the night—he has the rest available—but on the other hand, being tied up sucks. He finally agrees if he’s allowed to tie the knots himself. He ties them a bit loose, with plenty of wiggle room and the ability to get free in about two seconds if he needs to. The guy knows, but he doesn’t say anything, just fucks Sam. He’s into drawing it out, wants to hear Sam beg. Sam obliges him—the longer this takes, the more Sam makes, so he does his best to encourage the guy to keep it up as long as possible.

Sam cleans up again and counts his money. With what they had in the trunk from Dean playing pool last weekend, he has fifteen hundred bucks.

The clerk eyes Sam up and down, and Sam flushes because he forgot to change. He still has the too-tight shirt and jeans, and he probably looks fucked out. No one says anything, which is good, because Sam doesn’t want to deal with charges of solicitation on top of everything else.

They let Dean out pretty quickly. He saunters into the room, and his eyes take in Sam with a sort of muted horror. The clerk reminds Dean about his court date, and they both smile and nod, even though they’ll be out of state by then, having ditched the identity they’ll issue a warrant for. They don’t speak as they walk out.

“What did you do, Sam?” Dean asks in a level voice.

“I got you out, jerk.”

“Sam.”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

“You,” Dean chokes for a moment, “You’ve—before?”

“When you and Dad used to hunt and leave me—Dad never left enough money for food, bus fare, laundry, rent, whatever. College applications cost a fucking fortune and I couldn’t exactly hold down a job. I wanted to get you a birthday present when you turned twenty-one, show you, just once, how grateful I was. I did it from time to time, Dean. It’s not a big deal.”

“You were never supposed to—“

Sam spins and grabs Dean’s shoulders. “Dean. Shut up. I did it. I’m a hunter, I know how to kill people with my bare hands without breaking a sweat, I’m smart, I don’t get myself into stupid situations. Learned how to be good at this from you, Dean. I know you used to.”

Dean drops his head against Sam’s shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to fucking know about that. Ever. It was..”

“What? Some big fucking secret? You sold yourself so you could feed us. You sold yourself when I was twelve and asked to go on that field trip to the water park. I remember. The bus ticket was fucking expensive. I followed you that night, you know. Wanted to know—I felt so bad, after.”

“Sammy, no… I did it ‘cause I wanted you to have that. An’ I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t regret it either, Dean,” he says, kissing Dean’s forehead. “I haven’t done it at all since you and I got together. Haven’t needed to. I made them wear condoms, obviously, but maybe we should just be careful until I can get tested.”

Dean surges forward and kisses Sam, licking at his lower lip and thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth. He backs up a few minutes later, their foreheads still resting together. “Sure, Sammy,” he says softly. “Whatever the fuck you want. I know it’s been a long night for you, know you’re probably tired, probably sore, but can I…can I fuck you?”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “We’re in front of the police precinct.”

“Not here. Motel.”

“Sure, Dean. I’m, uh, well. I’ve already come twice tonight. But if anyone can make it three, it’d be you.”

Dean chuckles as they get into the Impala. “What’d they do to you?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Sammy. Tell me. What’d those guys do to you tonight? Or was it a chick? Some ugly broad pay you to eat her out?”

“No, no,” Sam says. “Two guys. The first, uh, he wanted someone flexible.”

“I’ve watched you stretch. I’ve had your legs ‘round my neck. Bet he was happy with you, then.”

“Shit, Dean, it went on forever, was so fucking uncomfortable. My body’s not meant to bend like that.” 

Dean chuckles. “Yeah? He just fuck you?”

“No, no. I blew him, too. Got him going.”

“How ‘bout the other one?”

“He, uh, wanted to tie me up. Told him he could if I tied the knots.”

Dean stares at him, eyes off the road. “You hate being tied up. Won’t even let me do it.”

Sam’s eyes soften. “If you really wanted to, I’d let you.”

“No. Fuck no. You’re not doing something you hate just to make me happy. The hell you say yes to that asshole?”

“He paid for it. And he was really into denial, you know? Wanted to keep me on edge for hours. Which was good. He owed me for every thirty minutes he took.”

“He use anything else?”

Sam swallows. “Nipple clamps.”

Dean chuckles darkly. “Bet you liked those.”

“Mhm. He tugs the chain, though. Way too hard. Don’t like that.”

“I’ll kiss ‘em all better tonight, baby,” Dean promises. “Was that it?”

“He, uh, he had a thing for dirty talk. Wasn’t very good at it.”

“What’d he say?”

“Kept calling me his bitch, you know, good bitch, yadayada. It sounded like those bad pornos we used to watch when we were kids.”

“You’re not a bitch.”

“I know, Dean.”

“No. Sam. Listen to me. You’re not any of those names they call us, okay? We do what we have to do.”

“Neither are you, Dean. I know. People say a lot of shit. For what it’s worth, I’m definitely not his, either. Yours.”

“Yeah, Sammy. An’ I’m yours. Only yours.”

They pull into the motel and go into their room. Dean pushes Sam’s bag—still open across the single king-sized bed—onto the floor and turns to Sam.

“You choose tonight, baby,” he says. “You wanna go straight to bed, you wanna bend over the table, you wanna go take a shower together, what?”

“Bed,” Sam says, already pulling at his clothes. “Already took a shower, don’t need one, just need you.”

Dean chuckles and starts pulling off clothes as he walks to his duffle, taking out condoms and lube. “Wanna get on the bed, Sammy?”

Sam, already naked, lies himself out, on his back, pushing a pillow under his hips and spreading his thighs invitingly.

Dean looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Was gonna ask if you wanted to fuck or be fucked tonight. Guess that answers my question.”

Sam groans. “Fuck me, fuck me,” then he stops. “Unless…you worried? If you don’t…wanna be inside me, after tonight…I can understand…”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss. “Fuck, no,” he says. “Always want you, and you should know that. 

Sam jerks his hips up invitingly. “Then fucking fuck me! C’mon, Dean, want you in me, no one else, just you. Need you, please.”

Dean shushes him with his lips pressed to Sam’s stomach. He licks across Sam’s abs, dips his tongue in his belly button, holds down Sam’s hips when they jerk up. “’S okay, Sammy, baby, I got you tonight. Gonna make this good, gonna make this ‘bout you. You made everyone else happy tonight, it’s your turn.”

He flicks one of Sam’s nipples and Sam hisses, and it’s not an entirely good hiss. “Still sore?”

Sam nods.

“Want me to leave them alone?”

Sam shakes his head. “You said you’d kiss them better.”

Dean grins. “That I did. But you tell me if it’s too much. Supposed to feel good.” He sticks out his tongue and gently laves one nipple, then the other. Sam is moaning now, and it’s definitely a good moan.

He tongues and gently sucks both nipples until he’s worried about irritating them further and kisses up Sam’s neck. “Sammy? Sammy, can I bite you? Leave a mark?”

“Please,” Sam gasps. “Oh, god, please, yours.”

Dean sinks his teeth onto Sam’s neck at the same moment he grasps Sam’s dick.

Sam howls, hips jerking into Dean’s hand. Dean grins as he releases Sam’s neck, then leaves little teasing bites down Sam’s torso. He licks and nips at Sam’s hipbones before sinking his mouth onto Sam’s dick.

He swallows about half of it down, and takes one of Sam’s hands, puts it on his head. Once he’s done that, he uses his free hand to lace his fingers with the hand Sam has gripped the sheets with, and continues to pump the base of Sam’s dick with the other.

Sam’s chanting by now, Dean, Dean, Dean, please, Dean, but his hand on Dean’s hair isn’t pushing. He tugs a bit at Dean’s short hair, and Dean moans around his dick, because the slight pain sends pleasure straight to his neglected dick.

He pulls off. “Don’t need to beg tonight, Sammy,” he says, silencing Sam’s continued chants with a brief kiss. “Bet you did enough of that earlier. Anything you want tonight, baby. Yours.”

“Fuck me.” Sam grunts out.

Dean shoves a second pillow beneath Sam’s hips, uncaps the lube and begins teasing at Sam’s hole. He’s still open, so Dean works two fingers in easily, coating him with lube before rubbing against his prostate.

Sam’s head is thrashing now.

Dean works in a third finger, then his pinky beside that, before he rolls on the condom and lines up with Sam. “Ready, Sammy?” he asks.

Sam nods and Dean pushes in, slowly pushing until he bottoms out, then giving Sam a moment.

He leans down to kiss his brother. “Tell me, Sammy,” he asks. “Those assholes fill you up like this?”

“Ngh,” Sam grunts, trying to jerk his hips, trying to get Dean to move, but Dean holds back, just a second longer.

“Did they?”

“Ugh! No! No, only you, only you fucking fill me like this. Feels so good, Dean, damnit, fuck me!”

Dean obliges, starting a steady pace, a hard, slow roll that hits Sam’s prostate every time. Sam wraps his legs around Dean, pulling him closer, pulling him deeper. They keep up a steady stream of curses between quick kisses until finally Sam stills, tightens, and comes with a scream.

Dean rocks into him though it, but Sam tightening through his orgasm pulls Dean’s right from him. He fills the condom and collapses, right on top of Sam.

He goes to pull out, but Sam stops him. “Stay,”

“Sam, you gotta be so fucking sore already. You don’t need—“

Sam actually growls. “Stay. A few more minutes.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the tattoo on Sam’s chest. “Alright.”


End file.
